By LI Yu Translated by East Sea fairy
The murmuring raindrops outside the door curtain
implies that spring on the land
is ending to remain.
So thin is my silk quilt that the dawn chill I can't stand.
Only when deep in the dreamland
can I forget awhile
that I'm far away from my homeland,
living in exile,
and enjoy the passing pleasures for a while.
To lean against the rail to look into the distance alone I don't dare
for to see the lost boundless soil
is what I can never bear.
To lose it, you need little moil,
but to regain it you need endless toil,
for it's like the fallen flowers gone with spring, though once worthwhile,
and the washed-away waves, though they did surge and boil.
Compared to the paradise on earth I lived in erstwhile,
a living hell is my present domicile.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem